Waiting
by Belker
Summary: Tony's past is something that always has Gibbs wondering. He will never know everything, and that's fine, but anything? The important stuff? Shouldn't he at least be trusted with that? Team fic. Tony centric, as usual.
1. Chapter 1

_OMG, scousemus1c, I did it! I posted my fic. Hope you like it, guys. I'm gonna need your support on this one. It's the longest I've posted as of yet. And remember it's set before Flesh and Blood. Sometime season five, I guess. Hope you'll enjoy.  
/Belker_

* * *

Chapter one

Tony huddled in his jacket. It was cold and his body was trembling, and the wet jacket didn't do much to change that fact, but he figured he would be just as freezing without it. So he huddled.

Ice cold water dripped from his hair into his eyes and he wished for the hundredth time that he'd brought his cap. Swiping irritably over his face from time to time, he hoped the infuriating rain would stop already. But he stayed where he was. He didn´t move. Just waited.

* * *

"_DiNozzo!" _

"_Boss?"_

"_You up for a stake out?"_

"_Always, Boss", he grinned excitedly._

That was last week. That was before he _knew_.

* * *

He was waiting for _her_, and he did it well; the 'waiting' thing. He had once overheard Gibbs in the bullpen: _'May not believe it, McGee, but I don't know anybody who can wait like DiNozzo can'. _

He wondered levelly if the boss knew _why _he was such a patient man in situations like this. In spite of Gibbs' great investigative skills, Tony would say that - no, he didn't have a clue as to why his SFA had this deftness. Because Gibbs had never met Tony's father.

He shifted position slightly, and violent shivers all but made his knees buckle. He glared at the door that would reveal the target of his boss' - and thereby _his_ - interest, willing it to open. In an effort to make his teeth stop chattering, he clenched his jaw hard and in doing so caught the tip of his tongue. The sharp sting was a sudden reminder of past times when he had stayed out in the rain. It usually involved some kind of physical pain as well.

Great memories, those. He forced his mind onto another path. Wet T-shirt contests. Hot showers. Laura in Accounting. Cold showers.

Then there she was; the target. His mission. A tall brunette, wearing an impeccably tasteful outfit and an air of caution. She peered through the front door of the hotel, frowning at the pelting rain. Obviously turning down the doorman's offer to hail her a cab, she produced and unfolded an umbrella before stepping out into the street, avoiding the larger puddles.

He let her walk halfway down the block before moving out of the alley. Tall as he was, Tony could still resemble a lurking shadow if he wanted to be inconspicuous.

The streets were all but empty due to the downpour, which suited him perfectly. He tailed her for three blocks and then, as she stopped momentarily to peek through a store window, he made his move and slid up next to her.

"You could never afford those Jimmy Choos", he said lightly, making her turn her head.

She eyed him; not suspiciously or surprised as he would have thought, but with great amusement evident on her face. Was that a smirk gliding over her lips?

"You would know, with a cop's salary", she said unmoved, and turned to look at the beautiful shoes again.

He had underestimated her. _Again. _She'd probably known from the start that he was following her. He snorted a laugh. "I'm not a cop anymore. Federal agent, nowadays. Government property."

"Wow, that's great", she said, with what he believed to be genuine warmth. She looked him in the eye and smiled. A real smile this time. "That's really great, Tony."

"Thanks, Moira. Heard you aren't doing too bad yourself. Well, for a high school drop out, that is…"

They both smirked at shared memories for a second, then stared at the window again.

"Sooo…" She caught his eye via the reflection, all amusement gone from her face. "Why are you following me, Mr. Federal Agent?"

He took a moment, then huffed slightly. "My boss made me." No more. He gave her no more than that.

She just nodded as if she understood, thoughtfully biting her lip, looking down on the water soaked tarmac. "Just following orders, huh?"

"Yes."

"You going to arrest me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Whether you have anything to do with Eric Hunter, or not." He caught her cringe from the corner of his eye.

* * *

"_Eric Hunter", the Director said with a touch of steel in her voice, as she put a picture up on the plasma in MTAC. "Our liaison in Mossad tells us he's the one behind the shipping of weapons - US Navy weapons - to enemy lines in Iraq."_

"_Nice guy", Tony commented._

"_No. No, he's not." Jenny glowered at the picture. "He is however a new face to us. He wasn't even a blip on our radar before Mossad got us this new intel. This is a bomb waiting to blow, gentlemen."_

"_What do you want me to do this time, Jenny?"_

_Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tony's straightforward question, but didn't comment. _

"_You will establish contact with Hunter's fiancée. She is, as far as we know, not involved in any of his affairs, but she is our best chance of getting in to his inner circle."_

"_How? What if she won't cooperate?" Tony asked warily._

"_She will." The Director looked confident. "She's the head of the Detective Division in Baltimore PD as of last month. She's expected to become the new Deputy Police Commissioner when Barksdale retires. And she's here in DC next week on a conference."_

_Tony didn't flinch when the picture of Moira was put up on the screen, he just blinked once._

* * *

"What?!" Moira burst out, turning to him, seeking his eyes. "He's my fiancé, but I'm sure you already knew that by the way this conversation has turned out. Why are the feds interested in Eric?"

"Because he's an arms dealer and a murderer", Tony answered evenly, finally meeting her fiery gaze. She didn't believe him, he could tell.

"I won't have any of this crap!" She turned away from him, eyes blazing, chestnut hair flying. Tony stood calmly observing her. He knew she would come to her senses and listen to him. She was just too good a person to have any part in her fiancé's dirty business. Too good a cop.

She walked defiantly a couple of yards, then came to a halt with slumping shoulders, umbrella hanging useless by her side. She took a few deep breaths and spoke, without turning.

"I won't have any of it, Tony. Tell me it's not true." Her voice sounded so small.

He couldn't remember her ever sounding like that.

* * *

"_Come on, DiNozzo, hustle!" Moira yelled at him. He ran faster and she fired a couple of rounds in the general direction of those store robbers that had him pinned. He came crashing down beside her, panting painfully, drawing his gun._

"_What took you so long?" she grinned at him, eyes sparkling as she ducked the flying bullets._

"_Moira…", he warned. "We're waiting for back-up this time!"_

_She just laughed in excitement and raised her gun again._

* * *

"It is true, Mo. I saw the intel myself. He's rotten to the core, and we think he's using you to access vital information from the Department." He paused for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." She drew a couple of deep breaths, walked a bit closer. "What do you want me to do?" The voice was shaky - the tone of determination wasn't. The self confident Moira he knew was back in control again. The self confident Moira he knew would never let it show that she'd just been devastated.

"We need information on Hunter and we need information on his contacts, especially those in Iraq", he said.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked again.

The self confident Moira he knew would want to get this bastard. Or die trying.

"Let's get inside", Tony prompted. "There's no one following you. Not today."

She raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't follow through with unnecessary questions. She eyed his wet jacket, his trembling body and the bluish tint to his lips and said; "Let's."

They walked in a rather brisk pace, the way they used to when they were prowling the same corridors down at the police station, looking for coffee or something to eat. She didn't ask him where they were going. She trusted him that much after all these years.

After a short walk, during which she noticed Tony scanning the area around them subtly but efficiently, they arrived at a small coffee shop.

"This will do", Tony muttered and opened the door for her. He ordered coffee and positioned himself facing the door. He didn't speak, and neither did she. The coffee arrived and he put both of his shaking hands around the mug, savoring the heat. He downed half the cup and sighed contently.

"How long have you been following me?" she asked him finally.

"Only the last couple of days", he said, looking at his reflection in the black coffee. She nodded silently. "How long have you known?" he countered.

"Just a few days or so", she smiled, and leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I haven't shuffled papers for _that_ long, Tony."

He smiled back at her. He had _missed_ her.

* * *

It took about fifteen minutes to fill her in on the meager, but very viable intel NCIS had obtained on Hunter. How Mossad agents had discovered that US Navy weapons were used in attacks on Israeli targets, suicide bombings and other unthinkable deeds. How their liaisons in Mossad painstakingly, and not without losses, had picked up a trace that led to a small American import-export business owned by Hunter's company. He told her about the pictures he had seen and about the few phone calls NCIS had managed to tap into and record. He told her a grim story about her lover and fiancé that she really didn't want to hear, but she didn't interrupt once, only nodded occasionally. Her face was ashen when he finished and her knuckles were white.

"So… there you have it", Tony said, playing with his empty coffee mug. "Do you believe it?" He didn't offer his sympathies. Didn't ask how she was holding up, or if she was okay. He didn't _have_ to ask if her life had crumbled to dust around her, and she loved him for it.

"Yes, I believe you, Tony." After all, she always had. "Now, how does the NCIS think that I can help?"

He looked intently at her. "You know you don't have to do this, don't you? We can blow the whistle and pull you out now."

"Yeah", she snorted. "You won't have anything to pin on Eric, he walks and then I will have to get a new identity, lose my job, my life. Not to mention the blood that would be on my hands if I didn't try to stop this. No, Tony, I'm in all the way."

"Okay", was all he said to that. "I'll see to it that you get back safely to your hotel, and report to my Director. We'll contact you tomorrow. Just get to the lecture and someone will be there."

He let her go a block from her hotel, she squeezed his arm and he followed from a distance. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. As he watched her walk briskly down the street, he opened his cell and speed-dialed.

"Hey, Boss, it's me. I've made contact with the target. She'll do it… Yes… She seems like a good person."

Snapping the cell shut he let out an anguished sigh. This would not be easy. He hated lying to Gibbs.

**TBC**

* * *

_Soo...What do you think? Does my OC work? More team Gibbs to come - promise!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Waiting chapter 2**

McGee sneezed twice and instead of sympathy he got a glare from Ziva that shot clear across the bullpen.

"Do not pass me your germs, McGee", she snarled. "I am warning you, I do not want to spend a week in bed."

"Don't worry, Ziva, it's just allergies." He wiped his nose. "I hope", he added. "I hate the flu. I always end up staying in bed for at least a week. And I hear this new influenza's supposed to be worse than usual."

"I have not been sick with influenza since I was a child", Ziva informed him, somewhat proudly.

"You and Gibbs are more alike than I've thought. When Tony caught the plague, the boss told us he's never had the flu or even a cold!"

"Never?" Ziva didn't sound convinced.

"Never, Officer David", came Gibbs reply as he rounded the corner, timing flawless as usual. "What've you got? Besides the flu?" No hint of a smile.

"Um…not us, Boss", McGee stuttered, "but half of the computer team is on sick leave, so we're kinda…" He caught Gibbs glare. "…shutting up and continuing with our background check on Hunter."

"Yeah you are, McGee."

When Gibbs all but ran up the stairs to MTAC McGee shared a look with Ziva.

"He's always like this when Tony is out on a job", he shrugged. He had seen it before. He just hoped that DiNozzo had the good taste of coming back in one piece or there would be hell to pay.

* * *

In a somewhat private corner in MTAC Gibbs snapped at his old partner. "I don't like it, Jenny."

"You don't have to like it" , she answered him coolly. "I'm the one who is sending him in. And I have absolute confidence in DiNo…"

"So do I, Jenny, that's not the point!" Gibbs looked flustered and Jenny hid a smirk. Jethro only looked this worried when his Senior Field Agent was concerned.

"What is your point then, Jethro?"

"DiNozzo's taking a great risk out there with no back up", he almost growled.

"I couldn't risk getting anyone else involved in this. Besides, you know as well as I do, that Tony was the first choice for this op. My only choice. He's the best shot we have at contacting Ms. Crenshaw without alerting any of her surveillance. He's done it before, as you very well know."

Gibbs had stayed calm during her rant, but now he scowled at her. "You done? He could be in danger and without even a wire we would never know…"

At that moment his cell rang and he flipped it open with a curt "Gibbs".

"_Hey, Boss, it's me. I´ve made contact with the target…"_

* * *

As Tony snapped his phone shut and watched Moira from a distance he almost let those familiar old feelings loose to haunt him. Taunt him. He shrugged them off with practiced ease. Not the time or place.  
He came back to reality as he felt a prickle down his spine and reflexively turned around. Nothing. Not letting his instincts be ignored he eased his jacket open, feeling the reassuring weight of his SIG in his shoulder holster.  
The alley to his left seemed good enough. He walked in and waited. Nothing happened, no one came. He slid out of the alley and looked carefully around - nobody in sight. He walked into the crowd of the main street but left his jacket open, freezing temperature be damned. He got to his car without any sign of trouble and drove to the Yard.

"Hi, Tony", came the overly cheerful greeting from Ziva. She loved it when he looked this miserable, he knew. "It is nice weather today, yes?" She was unabashed as she eyed his wet shirt and how it clung to his chest. She held his gaze for a smoldering hot moment before walking towards the restrooms.

He didn't have the energy to do more than pull a face at her, but when he walked to the stairs leading to MTAC, he wrung his soaked sleeve over some important looking papers on her desk.

"We'll meet her tomorrow", Tony said and looked at Jenny. "She'll go to a lecture down at Metro, and she'll slip out and meet you. No safer place than a building full of police officers, right?"

"That's good work, Tony", Jenny praised. "Hunter won't know what hit him."

Gibbs watched as Tony nodded mutely then hung his head wearily. "Go home, DiNozzo, put some dry clothes on and get some sleep."

Tony left without a word. Gibbs frowned, famous gut churning.

Ziva watched Tony walk through the bull pen and get into the elevator. He looked so tired and run down. She worried for a second, then found the puddle of water on her desk. "DiNozzo…" she hissed, then listed all the torture methods she knew of that somehow involved water.

Tony stood leaning wearily on the wall in the elevator as it took him down to the garage. He felt uneasy to have left her alone and his pulse wouldn't settle down. He sighed at his own stupidity then found himself driving to Mo's hotel again. That foolish feeling of protectiveness he knew he would never be able to shrug off was stronger than ever. And who was he to ignore gut feelings? He was Gibbs' protégé, after all.

* * *

Across town a man slipped some coins in a pay phone.

"It's me. I saw the fed today. He's real good, but I saw'im. He was with the lady, I'm sure. Yeah. I'll do that." He slammed the phone down and let a wide grin spread across his face.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys! After weeks and weeks of work and computer crashes and such, I'm kind of thrilled to post this chapter. Hope you'll like it!_**

* * *

**

**Waiting chapter 3**

"Abby, you got a minute?" _No preamble, as usual. _

"Sure, Bossman! What do you need?" _She was used to that…_

"Want you to run a background check on Ms. Crenshaw for me."

She swirled around, pigtails flying like rotor blades around her head. A smile tugged at her lips as she gave him a look that said _'I love you, but honestly, sometimes_…'

"Gibbs, she's a Deputy Chief! She's been checked and rechecked and triple-checked and... I'm sure there's nothing hinky about her that nobody's ever dug up." She waived her arms over the clattered desks. "Besides, I've got all this lovely evidence from last week to process and…"

"Humor me", Gibbs said with a blank face. "And Abby… this is a personal favor."

"Oh." The bubbly scientist was for once unable to find words. "I mean…oh. Okay."

"Thank you." A quick peck on the cheek and he was out the door. Her frown disappeared when she saw the big Caf-Pow! on her desk. As she had stated many times before - the Bossman was magical…

Gibbs' lips resembled a thin line as he walked to his favorite coffee shop - "caffeine dealer" Kate had called it - and the thoughts roaming his mind were digging deep lines on his forehead. His gut was churning. Something was bothering his SFA, ergo bothering Gibbs. Something about this case. About ms. Moira Crenshaw.

He nearly inhaled the coffee and demanded a refill, hoping the caffeine would bring the energy to solve this thing. Whatever it was.

* * *

"Gibbs! Hi!" Abby said in that high-pitched voice that had him know that she wasn't happy with herself. It usually meant that she had somehow, by her own standards, betrayed his trust.

"Abby", he greeted, then added calmly; "The Director's been talking to you."

Abby nodded miserably. "I know I did this for you as a personal favor, but it's like she can smell it in the air when you're up to something and technically she's my boss…well, she's my boss' boss and…"

"Abby! What did you find?" Before she could answer his cell went off, and one look at the caller ID had him snap the thing open.

"Jethro, my office now!" Jenny's voice boomed.

He grinned lopsidedly at Abby before moving.

"_Sorry", _she signed.

* * *

"Your agent…"

_So now he was Gibbs' agent… _"What'd he do now?"

"Your agent obviously didn't find it necessary to inform either of us that he has strong connections to Crenshaw."

"What connections?" he said warily. He'd been right. _Dammit!_

Jenny eyed him as if to assure herself that he wasn't pretending. "He was her partner in Peoria", she finally said.

Gibbs felt his heart rate speed up and felt a tug of what could almost be described as disappointment. Tony hadn't talked much about his partners from when he was a cop, and to be truthful Gibbs hadn't asked, but this was different. This was withholding vital information. _This_ was life and death. "How long?"

"Fourteen months, before she transferred to another precinct. Boston, I think."

"She clean?" He had to gather his thoughts somehow, and asking obnoxious questions was a way. Jenny gave him a thin smile. _She knew him too well…_

"As far as we can tell. Just came off the phone with Chief Barksdale. He has great confidence in her."

"So does DiNozzo, obviously." Gibbs seethed. "I'll call him now and…" He turned so as not to let Jenny see the emotions roaming his mind. She had always been able to see right through him.

"He saved her life once", Jenny softly called behind him, making him stop short. "Right before she left Peoria." Gibbs didn't comment, but turned to look at her. "A murdering rapist got his eyes on her and from what I've learned she was lucky Tony was 'in the neighborhood'. The rapist was shot and killed. According to the report, they filed it as self-defense. Crenshaw was never raped and not seriously injured."

"DiNozzo?"

"Sick leave for three weeks. The rapist was a 250 lb ex-con."

"Yeah, what did DiNozzo do?" A crooked smile crept into his features. "Try to take him down with his bare hands?"

"He did", Jenny told him wryly. "It was Crenshaw who pulled the trigger."

* * *

_She was breathing fast and shallow. Her hands were shaking so hard that she nearly dropped the gun. She looked at her mark with vehemence and braced herself against the wall. The blood oozing from her hairline was getting in her eyes, but she didn't care._

"_Is he…?"_

"_Yes", Tony answered her from the floor. "He's dead. You okay?" He coughed once and she could tell that the blood pouring from his mouth didn't come from the split lip. _

_She shakily brushed the hair from her face. "Yeah." She sank down beside him. "What about you, Tony?"_

"_I'm fine", he said and dribbled some more blood on the floor._

_She suppressed the urge to berate him about the obvious lie, and used her sleeve to wipe his lips clear of the red._

"_You're making a mess", she stated softly._

"_I'll buy you…buy you a new shirt", he wheezed in a feeble attempt at joking. _

"_I owe you my life", she whispered to him, making it very clear that she didn't give a rat's ass about the shirt. _

"_Well, it p…it pisses me off when…wh'n a guy picks on someone half 'is size."_

_After finishing that sentence he was spent. Moira let him lean against her; as much for his comfort as for her own. They didn't talk any more and by the time the ambulance got there Tony had passed out._

_And by the time he was dismissed from the hospital, Moira had left._

* * *

Tony sat muttering in his car outside Mo's hotel. He didn't exactly know why he had come back; fierce protectiveness or not she would be safe in there until tomorrow.

A shiver traveled up his spine and grumbling over his own stupidity he nudged the heater up a notch or two, never letting his eyes leave the hotel entrance. At least it was dark now and still raining, letting him sit in the car without being noticed. That whole 'staying on foot not to raise suspicion' had really taken it out of him today. He was so tired he was trembling and he felt a headache lurk behind his eyes.

_Should go home_, he thought. He stayed. _Should eat something_. Decided he wasn't hungry.

He'd never tell Mo, but his feelings was in turmoil after seeing her again.

After a while he'd stopped trying to call her in Boston. He never knew why she didn't answer his calls and it didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered. He had continued on with his life and so had she obviously. Deputy Chief of Police… He snorted at the thought, recalling the rash police woman who absolutely detested doing what the higher-rankings told her to.

He didn't know what it was that alerted him first. His Spidey-sense picked up on a small movement in the alley beside the hotel and he was abruptly shaken from his thoughts. A grey ghost moved in the dark. He stayed absolutely still for a while, observing the shadow. He silently drew his gun and slipped out of the car. So his gut was beginning to rival Gibbs'…

* * *

As Gibbs stormed down the stairs from MTAC, he saw McGee staring at the evening news, eyes wide and terrified.

"Boss! Take a look at this! Isn't that Crenshaw's hotel?"

Gibbs grunted impatiently, but stopped short as he caught sight of the pictures flickering on the screen.

The flames licking the hotel building were impressive to say the least.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

__

My oh my! I never expected this chapter to be so hard to get down on paper! After many a rewrite I decided that it's tonight or NEVER! So here you go ;)  
/Belker

* * *

__

**Chapter 4**

..previously...

_He didn't know what it was that alerted him first. His Spidey-senses picked up a small movement in the alley beside the hotel and he was abruptly shaken from his thoughts. A grey ghost moved in the dark. He stayed absolutely still for a while, observing the shadow. He silently drew his gun and slipped out of the car. So his gut was beginning to rival Gibbs'…_

* * *

The ghost had disappeared into the shadows again. Tony strained his 20/10 to the limit, but saw nothing. What now? He was under strict orders not to approach Moira in the hotel. Her phone was supposedly tapped so he couldn't just call her and he didn't think the old "throw a pebble on the window"-stunt would work… The thought of calling Gibbs lingered in his mind for approximately a microsecond, but what was he supposed to say anyway? _'Hey, Boss, I ignored your orders to go home and now I'm about to blow the cover of one of our most important informants since the cold war, because I saw something move outside her hotel…No, I'm not totally sure it's not a cat…'_ The back of his head tingled with phantom pains and he decided to hold off on that call for a moment.

He took a deep breath, jeopardized a week's worth of stake out and went for a walk.

For once grateful for DC's ability to produce such an impressive amount of rain, he snuck around the corner to the less glamorous side of the pricey hotel. The dark alley was full of discarded cartons and smelled of garbage. It was also empty of bad guys. He breathed hard and felt his heart race. He'd been so sure he saw someone. Where was that bastard? He held his breath and listened carefully, but couldn't hear much over the pelting rain. Carefully, senses on high alert, he advanced down the narrow alley. Resisting the urge to swipe at the water pouring down his face he held his gun high with the safety off.

A sudden whiff of cigarette smoke had him push against the wall behind a dumpster for some makeshift cover. However, even the stupidest of bad guys wouldn't smoke at a crime scene; they only ever did that in the movies. He relaxed slightly at the Spanish words floating his way. He really didn't think two hit men would whine about 'fat tourists who made complaints about the food'. He let out a silent breath before carefully backing away, leaving the two unhappy hotel employees to their cigarette break.

As he stood squinting his eyes at the hotel, thinking maybe his mind had played a trick on him - he was very tired after all - he saw the dark clad man again. He stood in the street outside the lobby just as calm as if he were merely admiring the building's architecture. Tony wasn't fooled: the hotel was one of those ghastly glass and concrete houses that were built in the sixties. The man looked somewhat dazed and stood there smiling - grinning. Something about him gave Tony the creeps, but for the second time tonight he hesitated. He shouldn't have. If he had just moved a second earlier, he may have had time to act. Now he could just watch as the man threw something that Tony realized in midair was a Molotov cocktail.

All caution forgotten he charged into the street, gun trained on the crazy man, but it was too late. Much too late. Before his mind even had the time to catch up with his instincts, the big, fiery explosion threw him face first to the ground. A new explosion could be heard, and another. He grunted as his body impacted painfully with the tarmac, but he managed to hold on to the SIG and rolled onto his side to try to get the guy in firing range. As his dazed eyes flitted over a parked black Volvo, he recognized a movement from the driver's seat. He caught it out of the corner of his eye, but his street cop mind still registered the unmistakable silhouette of a rifle in the poor light. Tony would curse had he been able to draw enough air into his lungs to do so. Instead he blacked out for a second - maybe two.

* * *

He woke to chaos. Alarms wailing. People shouting, beginning to pour out of into the street. Someone with a brave heart and a fire extinguisher attacking the flames that seemed to be everywhere. Tony shook his aching head and stumbled to his feet. The rifle. Was the rifle still there? A look to where the Volvo had been parked revealed nothing through the rain and smoke and he ran towards the panicking residents of the hotel. Pushing forward. Ignoring the screaming and the terror. Get to Mo, before she gets out into the street. He had no doubts that the marksman he had seen was there for her. No doubts at all.

A big burly man ran into him and tried to get him to turn around. "Not safe to go in there, mister!" _Not safe out here, either_. Tony easily side stepped him and looked around for Mo. The smoke made everything gray and blurry, and the piercing fire alarm cut like a hot knife through his skull. The elevator was of course not in use and he bolted up the stairs to the third floor and to her room. He knocked hard and shouted to her only once before the door flew open and Mo was there; she was there and she was alive and he coughed "Come on!" and she did. They ran down the stairs and Tony found the way to the kitchen and the back door and they were finally outside in that dark, smelly alley.

He tried to breathe normally and not cough, before he took her hand and led her out into the street and away from the shooter and the evening's breaking news.

* * *

Gibbs cursed and thrust his phone into McGee's lap, not at all bothered by the fact he was going twenty miles over the speed limit with only one hand on the wheel. "Dammit! Call him again, McGee!"

Tim did as he was told - but used his own phone when the Boss wasn't glaring his way. After six signals, the call went to voicemail. Again. DiNozzo's cheerful voice asked him to leave his number.

A few minutes later, the seat belt bit into his chest at Gibbs' screeching halt. He looked with wide eyes. The flashing lights and the people running around were enough to tell any bypassing onlooker that this was a scene of trouble and misery. He stumbled out of the car and at Gibbs' orders went to try and get a visual on Ms. Crenshaw.

Gibbs flashed his badge: "Gibbs, NCIS. What can you tell me?"

The serious looking firefighter barely glanced at his ID, then snorted through a thick mustache.

"Lobby's pretty much destroyed. Other than that it was more smoke than anything. We're done here within the hour. Looks like someone just had fun with Molotov cocktails and gasoline. No fatalities." Then he added, "A lot of upset people, though", as if that were the worst news of the evening. Gibbs understood him just fine.

"Now, Captain, I'd like to have a look at the scene."

"I'm sorry, Detective," - he really hadn't looked at the badge - "but there are still a hell of a lot of smoke. I only let my boys in suits go in there. You have to wait here, like everyone else."

Gibbs gave the man a dangerous smile, but let it be for now. "McGee!"

* * *

"Yes, we got here pretty quick, Special Agent Gibbs. We've been roaming the area - you know there's a police conference this week?"

"I know", Gibbs growled. "I know. So you're telling me this lowlife is responsible for the fire that left god knows how many people homeless tonight?" Gibbs was fuming as he spoke to the young Metro PD officer.

"That's what he claims anyway. Brags, actually. We know him well. An old acquaintance, you might say."

"He like to put things on fire?" Gibbs looked with disgust at the man in handcuffs, sat in the police car, grinning at a joke only he'd been told.

"Yeah, he's an arsonist. Mentally unstable. We haven't been able to pin much on him for the last couple of years, but I guess he passed that line today, huh?"

"I guess", Gibbs muttered. "McGee!"

* * *

Tim was studying the area while still trying to reach Tony on his cell. He'd tried his home line several times too. "Come on, Tony", he muttered, "you know better than to be unreachable. You're practically the reason Gibbs invented that rule." He speed dialed again. Then his eyes landed on the car parked across the street. Tony's car. Empty. Tim felt cold inside as he dialed Gibbs' number instead. His gut was churning. He really didn't like it when Tony was in trouble. It usually meant deep, deep trouble. For all of them. "Boss? I think we've got a problem…"

* * *

After seven blocks of brisk walking, Tony led Moira into a rather fancy apartment building.

"Wait here", he said and strolled over to the desk and talked low and conspiratorial to the young desk clerk.

They stood side by side in the elevator in a warm kind of silence, both soaked to the bone and reeking of smoke. Tony leaned on the wall and she caught his eye in the mirror. The pale fluorescent light turned his face a ghostly white, but she still smiled weakly at him.

"Just like old times", she softly declared.

"Yeah, kind of", he mumbled. He straightened in anticipation as the cart came to a halt. "We're here. You can hit the shower first."

The doors opened with a soft whoosh, and he all but ran out into the corridor.

* * *

Tim stopped short as his phone rang with a familiar land line number on the display. "Tony! Where have you been? I've been trying to call you! I just found your car! I've been looking for Ms. Crenshaw, but…"

"Hey! Calm down, McPrattle. My cell got smashed. The Boss there? His phone's busy."

"Yeah, Tony, he's around here somewhere, just a second…"

"_McGee!"_

Tony winced at the angry voice echoing through the phone. "Guess you found him, huh, Tim?"

"DiNozzo! Where the hell are you?" Gibbs' gruff tone was of the unforgiving kind.

"Boss, I'm okay, thanks for asking, and so is Ms. Crenshaw. She's with me."

"She's what? Thought I told you to -"

"You did, Boss," Tony said helpfully, "but I had a gut feeling. You know about those, right?"

Tony pretended that he didn't hear the foul words coming out of his boss' mouth and continued; "I saw a gunman outside, waiting in a black Volvo XC90. Couldn't risk it, Boss."

"Metro's got him in custody," Gibbs growled. "Old acquaintance."

"Don't think they got the right perp, Boss. There were two men - I think they split the task. The one in the car had a rifle. He was just waiting outside like a skeet shooter."

"You get a good look at him? I'll have Abby run the plates." Gibbs sounded all business now and for this Tony was thankful. It would make what he was going to say a bit easier.

"No. I - hmm - kind of just saw the rifle."

"What?" Gibbs' surprise quickly gave way for suspicion. "You get hurt in the explosion, DiNozzo?"

"Boss? No! I just didn't have time to see him when I was…when I was lying on the ground."

He swore he could hear Gibbs mentally sigh on the other line.

"Alright, DiNozzo. You stay put until I've talked to the Director - see how we'll handle this. Don't leave!" He hung up before Tony had a chance to say 'but'.

Moira came out of the shower in a pair of Tony's sweats and a tee, feeling a bit better. She looked around his apartment with quiet amusement. He hadn't changed much. Stacks of DVDs and CDs everywhere. The few pieces of furniture he had were nice and rather expensive. The place was messy, but clean and she laughed softly.

"What?" Tony demanded warily, just snapping his phone shut. "What's so funny?"

"It's just… you. You don't seem to have changed a bit since I last saw you." She smiled warmly at him. Intended that as some kind of compliment.

He just looked at her and didn't say a word. Her smile faded. Wrong words. All wrong.

She let it pass without further comment.

"Hey", she said, noticing how shivers were running through his body. "Why don't you put some dry clothes on? Looks like you're freezing." He didn't break the gaze, but slowly nodded as if in deep contemplation. "You should hit the shower, get warmed up. How long did you stand out there in the rain today, anyway?" Her voice grew lighter, with a slight tinge of banter to it. "You know, you could have just knocked."

He half smiled at that and shrugged out of his jacket.

"I'll take a quick shower, then we'll talk. Don't touch anything!" he growled from the bathroom and heard her amused voice call back:

"I have money now. I can pay for any and all damage!"

* * *

When he came charging in to the bullpen a while later, Gibbs was met by a very tight lipped Abby.

_We have to talk_, she signed and didn't give him a chance to protest, before she stalked down to her lab.

"What've you got, Abs?"

"Gibbs, this is really weird. I mean not weird-weird but…weird. Tony and Crenshaw go way back."

"Already knew that", Gibbs grumbled.

"No, I mean like waaaay back." She put up some graduation pictures on the screen. "They went to Ohio State like a year apart. There are even a couple of pics of them together in the year book. And they lived a few blocks apart when they were kids. Same elementary school." Even the unflappable Gibbs stalled at this information. Abby turned to him, confusion and something he interpreted as hurt evident in her voice. "Gibbs, he never told me about her. I mean like never ever."

"Never told me either, Abs."

"Why wouldn't he have mentioned her in all these years?"

"Don't know, but I'll find out."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm taking a chance here, posting a tiny chapter tonight, just to give my faithful readers _something _to show I haven't forgotten about this fic. :)  
/Belker_

* * *

_Previously..._

"_I'll take a quick shower, then we'll talk. Don't touch anything!" he growled from the bathroom and heard her call back:_

"_I have money now. I can pay for any and all damage!"_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Tony cleaned fog from the bathroom mirror and gingerly touched the bump and angry asphalt burn across his forehead and nose. He winced. _That might scar… _As he got out from the shower he did feel a little bit better. He'd just pop a few Advil and be as good as new. He cleared his throat for the hundredth time. Damn smoke.

"Mo?"

"In here."

She was seated on his couch engrossed in the TV news. He could see she'd been crying, but knew better than to mention it. She had her game face on again.

"Eric will probably call after he 'sees this on the news'." She glanced at him and added in a hard voice; "That's to be expected anyway, if he wants to continue this charade."

The reporter on the screen proclaimed, in a suitably solemn voice, that although a lot of people were affected by the smoke, none were killed in the fire and the police conference was expected to be held as planned.

"And there go my chances at being declared dead. He'll be disappointed now, won't he?" she sighed.

Tony breathed a soft curse. "Look, Moira, he's just a mean son-of-a -"

"Thank you Tony, but I don't need coddling." She was on her feet in an instant. "Should I call him right away? Put on a little show? Tell him I'm alright and that I wish he were here?" Her cold smile was giving him chills. He'd almost forgotten how scary she could be.

"Let me call Gibbs."

* * *

"What now, Jenny? Crenshaw's in danger, DiNozzo's in danger and we're not even officially on the case!"

"Metro is -"

"Metro think they got their guy and no one save DiNozzo saw that other shooter."

"I trust Tony, you know that, Jethro, but he was thrown by the explosion -"

"Said he was fine", Gibbs snarled.

"- and almost certainly hit his head. He should probably get checked out." Jenny sighed. She locked eyes with him and spoke slowly, with intent. "If we pull her out now we have _nothing_ and you know it."

"She'll be alive…"

"For how long? Hunter's no fool and probably has contacts everywhere. If she wants her life back she'll help us bring him down. She has to act normally. I can still make that meeting tomorrow and Hunter will be none the wiser."

"That's assuming he had nothing to do with this! If _he _didn't send that shooter then who did?"

"There's no evidence he was waiting for _her_. That hotel was crawling with higher-ups! Any one of them is a target."

Gibbs paused for a moment. He recognized the glint in her eye and shuddered. "When're you gonna stop this time, Jen? When Hunter's dead? When DiNozzo is?"

"Let me handle it, Jethro."

"Not this time, _Director_." He stormed out, leaving Jenny staring furiously at his retreating back. Well, let her look.

He was battling a furious mood when he came down the stairs.

When his cell rang he took a deep breath and answered with a gruff "Yeah Tony?"

"Hey, Boss. What's the word?" Tony sounded tense. He always could read his boss' moods.

"Jenny wants to wait 'til tomorrow. Meet at the conference as planned."

"She didn't believe me, did she?" Weary now.

"No."

"Do you believe me?"

"Yeah, I do, Tony. And you know that doesn't matter right now."

"Right", Tony said. "We'll stay put. Nobody followed us here; we should be safe." He perked up and cheerily added "Crenshaw's going to call Hunter now and tell him not to worry about her. Neat, huh?"

"You hang in there, Tony."

Gibbs hung up. Gibbs sighed. Gibbs cursed loudly and startled probationary agent Hall as she came out of the elevator. After he had shot a brusque '_go home, get some sleep_' to his other two agents he descended to the lower grounds of the building.

"Duck, you still here?"

"Well yes, Jethro, I haven't quite finished with our poor petty officer here. Tragic to say the least. Did you know he was -"

"I think Tony's in trouble."

The good doctor put down his paperwork and gave his friend a worried look. "What has our boy got himself into now?"

Gibbs pursed his lips and headed for Ducky's liquor stash. He helped himself to a big glass of Laphroaig and tossed it back. "I don't know."

Ducky frowned and walked up to him. "Tell me."

"He's lying to me again, Ducky!" He slammed the glass down. "He's lying and he's in trouble, I just know it."

"Jethro", Ducky said in a soothing voice, "you know that boy has never withheld information from you without very good cause."

Gibbs gave his old friend a glare, just because he knew he was right. "I _want_ to know! I want to know everything."

"Maybe that is unattainable, Jethro. You haven't exactly told him everything there is to know about you, now have you?"

Gibbs glared again, and poured another drink. "He knows enough. Probably more."

* * *

_Well, there you go. Not much action, but some character interaction. Hopefully more sooooon!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Tony breathed a soft curse. "Look, Moira, he's just a mean son-of-a -"_

"_Thank you Tony, but I don't need coddling." She was on her feet in an instant. "Should I call him right away? Put on a little show? Tell him I'm alright and that I wish he were here?" Her cold smile was giving him chills. He'd almost forgotten how scary she could be._

* * *

Tony didn't mean to listen in, but he could clearly hear Moira on the phone with Hunter. _No_, she would not come home, _yes_, business as planned. She had her voice trembling slightly and Tony couldn't tell if it was all an act. When he heard her snap her phone shut he quietly went to her side. She looked exhausted and drawn when she looked up at him with a wry smile. "All done."

"You take my bed, I'll take the couch, no arguments", he said. "We'll figure things out tomorrow."

She nodded and rose tiredly. "You be sure to get some sleep too." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"Yeah," he said stiffly and closed his eyes. "Good night." He didn't move until he heard the soft click of his bedroom door, and then sank heavily down on the sofa. He sighed, leaned his head back and closed his eyes in exhaustion, trying to ward off the thoughts and feelings warring for his attention. Nothing more could be done tonight. Eric was taken care of. Gibbs was taken care of. Tomorrow he would make sure Mo got to the conference in one piece and there she would meet with the Director in a place safe from shooters. And then…

He had a sudden thought that maybe he ought to call Abby, but he couldn't convince his aching body to move and before he knew it sleep had claimed him.

Tony had learned long ago to sleep with one eye open. You rarely took him by surprise, something Mo had found out the hard way early on in their friendship. Only, this morning she was thinking that you could drop a bomb without waking him up. He lay sprawled on the couch seemingly dead to the world. She shuffled around in his rather spacious apartment, wearing one of his shirts with her now dry, but still somewhat reeking jeans. She'd have to do some shopping today.

Tending to the coffee machine, she didn't notice him hovering until his gravelly morning voice rumbled from the doorway. "Do you still make it as strong as you used to? 'Cause I have good use of my stomach lining."

"You can put milk in yours," she suggested with a smirk and poured more coffee beans in the filter. She knew all about his terrible morning temper and how to deflect it.

"Prob'ly sour", he rasped and wrinkled his nose. He was bundled up in the thick afghan and the bruising on his forehead was impressive today. She eyed him carefully.

"You okay, Tony?"

"Okay?" He sounded wary and narrowed his eyes. She remembered him always evading those kinds of questions and shook her head wearily. Some things just didn't change.

"Never mind." She smiled and started the coffee maker with a flip of the switch. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"This is my apartment, remember?" he said, one eyebrow raised. "Here's nothing to eat."

"Not even your favorite sugar filled fruit loops?" She opened a cupboard. "AHA!" she exclaimed, and pulled out the colorful box of kid's cereal. "I _knew_ I'd find some!"

"No milk, remember?" he said and even added a grin. "We'll get breakfast on the way."

* * *

Tony entered the street and scanned it carefully before he pushed Moira into the backseat of the waiting cab. The cabby first looked dubious when Tony told him to turn into a cul-de-sac, but brightened a lot when Tony explained it was a secret mission kind of like James Bond and gave him a twenty. Nobody was on their tail and nothing more exciting happened on the way to Judiciary Square other than Moira's spilling juice on her shirt. "On _my_ shirt!" Tony exasperatedly reminded her.

Before she exited the car Tony grabbed her hand. "Hey. We'll figure this out, alright? You meet with Director Shepard and don't let her talk you into something you don't want to do." She nodded and kissed his cheek and he told her to behave. He watched her enter the building and immediately recognized her shadows from before. Good. _Report back to Hunter that she is where she said she would be, like good little goons._ Tony recognized the fact that it would be harder to go to his place rather than the hotel later that evening_. Oh well, that evening's problems._

He redirected his cabby to the Yard, feeling content with letting Jenny and Moira work things from their end now.

* * *

The lecture was called 'Building Confidence in the Delivery of the Promise' and Moira immediately felt her eyes droop. She wished she had more coffee.

"Ms. Crenshaw?" Moira didn't flinch, but damn if her heart didn't speed up, because she hadn't noticed the blonde slip into the seat behind her. "Meet me in the lobby in ten."

Moira cleared her throat and after the designated time strolled out into the lobby, almost empty now, save from a few people playing hooky from the lectures. The blonde agent nodded at her and led her to a room where she was greeted by a redhead.

"Ms. Crenshaw, I'm Director Jenny Shepard of NCIS and I'm here to help you."

Moira shook her hand and said: "I'll try my best to help _you_, Director."

Shepard smiled warmly, but Mo could still feel herself being scrutinized as Jenny's eyes narrowed.

"Is that DiNozzo's shirt?"

* * *

When Tony entered the bullpen some while later, he was extremely happy to find his team out on a case. Last night had been rough as it was and the last thing he needed was his team's prying.

A new phone lay on his desk with a note from McSmartypants. The IF was crossed over and replaced with a WHEN '… _you need help with this new cell, call me_.' And a goddamned _smiley_! Tony's probie had gotten a lot braver… He put the phone in his pocket with a somewhat grateful thought McGee's way and climbed the steps to Jenny's office only to learn that she was already at the meeting. _Good._ After some thought he decided a visit with Abby was due. Long overdue. He took a deep breath, decided that it was better to just get it over with and somewhat winded took the elevator down to Abby's domains.

She had squealed in delight when he showed up, just like he imagined she would and doled out her fiercest hug just like he expected her to, but then expected stopped. She grabbed his shoulders and stared at him. Her green eyes were darting between his. Back and forth. Left and right.

"What?"

"You'd tell me if you were in trouble, right Tony?"

"Of course not Abby, I don't want you upset," he grinned. To his dismay she stomped her foot and looked really angry.

"I don't like this, Tony! I really don't! You're not you and Gibbs is all grumpy and you're not telling me everything and…and you're not even wearing a suit today!"

He raised his eyebrows at this. "I'm sorry?" he tried, somewhat confused, looking down at his jeans (_and they were nice jeans too!)_ and shirt (_hello - designer shirt!)._

She looked like she might cry then and launched at him again, gripping his neck with fierceness he hadn't experienced in a while.

"What's going on, Abby?" he asked gently, prying her off his chest.

She gave him a long, long look before whispering, "I know about Ms. Crenshaw, Tony. That you know her from before. She was your partner in Peoria." His heart sped up, but he wasn't too surprised; this was Abby after all.

"Yes, she was," he conceded,"but it was a long time ago, Abby. Why's this an issue?"

"An issue? An _issue_, Tony? Don't you get it? We worry about you. I worry about you!"

"No need for that, Abs," he said, with what he hoped was a reassuring smile and turned to leave. "I'll be fine!"

"The Director knows you were partners in Peoria. Gibbs and I know more…!" He stopped dead in his tracks and she continued. "We found your school records, your addresses in Long Island…"

He deflated at this. He should have known._ Had_ known.

"Shit," he said. "I …Abby, please." This was not meant to surface again. Ever. "Don't go there, please."

Of course she didn't heed his warning and choked out "What happened, Tony?"

"It was a long time ago," he repeated. "We lost touch. Nothing to it."

Abby did that thing again, where her eyes scanned him, looking for truth or confession or something of the kind. "What happened?"

He tried hard to conjure up some plausible explanation, to deflect Abby's obvious worry, to maybe explain to himself what had happened all those years ago. He found none.

"She left."

**TBC**


End file.
